


one good storybook kiss

by firbolging



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: A Night Out In Rosohna, Established Relationship, F/M, First Date, Fluff, Gratuitous Hand-Holding, Jester & Beau friendship, Making Out, POV Jester Lavorre, The fluffiest thing I've ever written, lots of cake, mild references to alcohol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 17:00:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20604206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firbolging/pseuds/firbolging
Summary: “Are you free tonight?”With a coy flip of her hair, she said, “I will have to check my calendar. Why do you ask?”“I was wondering if,” he paused. “Are you going to stare at my wall the whole time?”Jester, who had still not turned back to face him, said, “I don’t know, Caleb. Are you going to get to the point?” She wondered if he was smiling, but she was not yet ready to give up the act. “Do you want me to look at you?”“What I want is to ask you… if you wouldn’t mind… that is if you would be so kind as to go out with me tonight.”Excitement spun Jester back around as she cried, “Like a date?”





	one good storybook kiss

**Author's Note:**

> this is the fluffiest thing I've ever written but it's what they deserve

Jester did not know what exactly she was doing wrong. She had kissed him, kissed him, kissed him, over and over. And he always responded, took whatever she offered. But he never took anything more than that. He never took the lead and she could not, for the life of her, figure out how to get him to.

Caleb was so free and easy with his words. They struck her right in the heart at the most unexpected moments. When he gave her a soft glance, squeezed her hand and murmured, “I do adore you,” before returning to his reading. A whisper of, “You are truly something spectacular, Lavorre” after she does something as simple as a spell, as a trick. Even when she pressed light but fervent kisses to his cheeks and mouth, hoping for something more to come of it, he would smile like a drunkard and say something like, “You are sweet,” or “Thank you,” or even, “I love you.”

It satiated nothing. All she did was love him more with every word. And with each day, each word, each inch further into love, the gentle pressing of their lips became ever more insubstantial.

* * *

“Jester?”

“Yes, Caleb?” she replied, unable to keep the humour out of her sultry tone.

“Are you free tonight?”

With a coy flip of her hair, she said, “I will have to check my calendar. Why do you ask?”

“I was wondering if,” he paused. “Are you going to stare at my wall the whole time?”

Jester, who had still not turned back to face him, said, “I don’t know, Caleb. Are you going to get to the point?” She wondered if he was smiling, but she was not yet ready to give up the act. “Do you want me to look at you?”

“What I want is to ask you… if you wouldn’t mind… that is if you would be so kind as to go out with me tonight.”

Excitement spun Jester back around as she cried, “Like a date?”

“I was hoping.”

Expectation was gone. This was real and solid before her. Her heart was in her mouth.

“This is going to be great,” she said.

Caleb shrugged, “We can only hope. I don’t know where people go on dates around here.”

“I don’t either. I don’t actually know where people on dates anywhere. I mean, I've never been one one before. Oh! We could ask someone who knows the city better than we do?”

“Like who?”

Gasping, she said, “What about the Bright Queen? I mean, it’s her city, right? Who would know better than her?”

“Oh, I don’t think that’s such a-”

Before he could give his full warning, Jester spoke out into the room at large (without casting anything at all), “Hey, Queenie. My boyfriend wants to take me on a fancy date tonight. Any recommendations? Also, how's it going? It's been a while. Okay, thanks.”

Jester turned and gave Caleb a wicked smile. In response, he narrowed his eyes.

“Has she replied?” he asked.

“Yeah, she said, ‘oh, it took him long enough. I hope he gives you a super cute necklace or something to make up for the wait.’”

He let out his usual laugh; clipped and honest. It was just about her favourite sound in the world.

“She is right,” he said. She was certain that he knew it was a joke, but he never said a thing contrary to the narrative she offered. “But that does not help us much in the immediate.”

“You don’t have any ideas at all?”

“I didn’t say that.”

She pressed a wet, hard kiss to his cheek and relished in the red flush that followed.

“Let’s do one of those then,” she said. “Pick me up in half an hour and don’t be late, okay?”

“We live in the same house.”

“So there’s no excuse!”

She gave a slow flourish of a finger wag, before slipping out of Caleb’s room and running up the stairs so quickly she almost tripped.

* * *

Deciding what the wear was a little trickier than she had predicted. All of her best things were back in Nicodranas and most of the dresses she had there in Xhorhas were worn ragged from one too many mending spells. She fumbled through her wardrobe, huffing and puffing in irritation, as Beau watched her from the floor.

Legs crossed in a poor attempt at meditation, she said, “Don’t worry too much about it. I think Caleb likes you in just about anything.”

Jester could not dispute that, but she had never been on a date before. And if this was the only one she ever got, she wanted to wear something special.

“I know, I know, I know,” she said.

Although she knew her tone was unconvincing. Not helped, of course, by the lack of pause in her rummaging.

“What about this one?” she asked, pulling out one of her newer things; emerald green and intricately embroidered. “Like, if we added a bow to it?”

Beau got to her feet with a sigh of, “Sure.”

Which was good enough for Jester. Beau, in spite of her name, had little time for bows or anything else frilly. The fact that she bit her tongue and helped tie the pale pink ribbon around the Jester’s waist. With the final pull, Jester let out a little yelp.

Beau said, “Too tight?”

“A little,” she wheezed. “I’m not all ab and bone like you.”

“Sorry,” said Beau, quickly loosening the knot. “This isn’t really my thing. I just take girls home; I’ve never dressed up for it.”

“But you would still know whether I look pretty or not, right?”

“You look super pretty.”

Jester spun and cooed, “Thank you, Beau,” throwing her arms around her friend.

Beau gave Jester a firm hug in response and said, “It’s cool. I mean, I’m happy to help. I’m not good at all this girly shit, but this date thing is super adorable and I will stay up late to hear all the details.”

With a laugh, Jester released her.

“Maybe don’t wait up too long. You never know!” she teased.

Beau gave an approving nod and Jester sat on the edge of her bed, with the full intention of keeping up that air of mystery. But, then the truth fell out of her.

“I’ll definitely be back here tonight.”

Concern clear, Beau asked, “Everything alright with you two?”

Jester flushed. A good liar, she might be, but she was bursting to talk about this.

“I can’t get him to kiss me properly.”

The words flew from her mouth without hesitation or regret.

“What do you mean ‘properly’?” asked Beau, raising a quizzical brow. “Like, with tongue?”

“Yeah! Or even for just a long time. It’s always over as soon as it starts, you know?”

“Like he pulls away?”

“Well… no. He just never… he never takes it any further. It’s just little kisses. And they’re really nice, don’t get me wrong, but it’s definitely not the way people kiss in the books.”

“Not in your books anyway.”

Jester shrugged, playing with the lace trim of her dress.

“Hey,” said Beau, “You ever tried to take things further yourself?”

“Isn’t that his job though? Like I’m just supposed to be all flirty and pretty and then he’ll grab me by the waist and give me the most incredible, passionate kiss ever. With just, like, a shit ton of tongue.”

Beau stared blankly for a moment before laughing.

“Okay, okay,” said Jester hastily. “I know there doesn’t have to be a guy and I know I’m strong and independent blah, blah, blah.”

“It’s not that,” said Beau, humour still threaded through her voice. “It’s just… have you ever met Caleb?”

Jester might have conceded that point, had a sharp rap on the door not interrupted. With wide eyes, she shot Beau a panicked look. Amused as ever, Beau strolled over and opened the door. In the short time it took, Jester had hopped up and made a poor attempt at brushing out the creases in her skirt. The swinging of the door revealed Caleb, handsome as ever. He was wearing his best purple coat and he’d even put his hair up nicely.

“Hello,” he breathed, staring slightly as though she was something extra special.

“Hi,” she replied.

All suspended in the air, their next move on pause until they had both soaked in the image of one another. Jester wanted to laugh, but could not bring herself to shatter the moment. It felt silly and wonderful all at once. Like being a teenager. Like being a bride. Like being nothing more than a body struck dumb by love and joy. The books didn’t go into much detail when it came to that sort of thing. But her mother had told her what it was to be in love, to be loved. The happiness it brought. It felt a lot like that.

Caleb spoke first.

“You look…”

He did not finish.

“So do you,” she said.

“Alright, you two,” said Beau. “Have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do or something. I don’t know. Try not to die.”

Jester let herself laugh as she rushed over to Caleb’s side, the door slamming behind them. Alone and up against one another. Almost anyway. Like a breath away at most. Like if one of them swayed they’d knock knees.

“I meant to say,” began Caleb, staring at their boots. “That you look wonderful.”

“Thank you, Caleb.”

“Especially wonderful. You always look wonderful.”

Her grin widened, would only keep widening. Nothing in the world could budge it. Ever. She’d go to her grave with a sore jaw and a full heart.

“Shall we go?” he asked, offering her his arm.

Grin stuck in place, Jester placed her hand on his elbow and, in her most formal, fancypanciest voice, said, “We totally shall.”

Caleb exhaled a hint of a laugh.

* * *

They strolled further into the city, past their snooty, nosy neighbours and towards the greater buzzing populace. The sky above was dark as ever, but Caleb insisted it was only evening, that there would still be much to do in town.

“Like what?” she pressed.

“Dinner is a standard.”

Which was fine by Jester. Fine. No better or worse. It was, by definition, romantic. But it failed to light a flame inside her. It just sounded a little… stiff.

“But,” he continued, “I thought you’d prefer to go straight for desert.”

Wide-eyed, she exclaimed, “Fuck yeah!”

“Oh, good,” he said. There was a ghost of a smile to be seen. “I remember passing a shop where you can sit, drink tea, eat cake, that sort of thing.”

“And you could never forget such a cool place.”

Jester was teasing. She knew he forgot nothing. But he did not correct her, knew he did not need to.

He guided them down a dimly lit, but oddly beautiful, old cobbled street. Many restaurants had spilt their tables and chairs out onto the pavement so customers might better enjoy the mild evening air. She wondered how Caleb could stand wearing his scarf, but he never seemed to mind the heat. Just as she rarely minded the cold.

Hands clasped together, they stopped at an almost completely empty shop. No tables and chairs had been placed outside, but the door and windows were all flung open, breathing out the sickly sweet smell of baked goods.

“I hope they use cinnamon,” she said, more to herself than him.

There were only three other people inside; an elderly goblin couple, and a sombre drow server.

“Good evening,” he greeted, voice clipped. “What can I do for you?”

“Table for two please! And, like, as many cakes as you have left," said Jester.

The drow man looked Jester up and down with scrutinising eyes, searching, perhaps, for a hint of irony. When he found none, he said, “Sit anywhere. I’ll be back with… mountains of cake.”

“Well, maybe start with a few slices of your best ones,” she said.

This seemed to both irritate and sedate their server.

“Very well,” he said.

Caleb held her hand throughout, saying nothing, contradicting none of her requests. As they sat and ate, their hands were forced apart by circumstance and so, to make up for this separation, Jester dragged her chair so close to Caleb’s that their legs brushed at all times.

“How is it?” asked Caleb sheepishly.

Mouthful of cake, Jester responded with two thumbs up. She could feel the burning eyes of judgement from the elderly couple behind them as they left. They might have muttered something rude, but her attention was so very much on Caleb that she neither heard nor cared.

“I’m sure you had some very nice bakeries in Nicodranas,” he said.

Swallowing, she replied, “The nicest! We would get pastries from all the best ones for breakfast every single morning.”

“Was there a favourite? Bakery, I mean.”

“There was one,” she said, with a fond sigh. “I never actually went there. I think they only did special orders. But every year on my birthday, Mama got them to make me the most incredible cake. And it was always different. One time it was covered in tiny unicorns made completely from sugar!”

“That sounds incredible.”

“That was just one of the designs. There were also ones with dancing ladies, little forest animals. One year it was mermaids!”

“We should get you something from there. Next time we visit your home.”

“We could order something really cool. Maybe, we could even get one that looks like a big pile of books on fire or something for you.”

He blinked back, smile weary.

“What about you?” she asked, feeling as though something in the mood had shifted, wanting desperately to undo it. “What kind of birthday cakes did you have? When you were a little boy?”

“Oh, we didn’t have anything this fancy.”

He nodded at the strawberry and cream covered slice under his nose. Jester tried not to show her surprise that something so simple could be seen as fancy.

“But you had cake on your birthday?” she pressed.

“Ja. Always.”

“What kind?”

For some reason, it felt important to know. To flush out the rough sketch of his childhood into something vibrant. He was always so forward with the present. The past, however, had been stuffed and hidden in his many pockets. This was something, though, that she thought he might relinquish. A small crumb of cake. She just needed to know the taste.

“It was full of fruit,” he began. “Dried and candied.”

“So it was sweet?”

“Very. But also nutty and rich.”

“Was there cinnamon?”

“Absolutely. What is a fruit cake without cinnamon?” 

Jester closed her eyes and tried to picture it. She could almost taste it, certainly smell it.

“What did it look like?” she asked.

“More of a bread than a cake.”

“Oh."

“Sugary though.”

She had sounded disappointed hadn’t she? It hadn’t been her intention.

“Oh, no!” she cried, opening her eyes. “It sound wonderful, I just wanted to picture it right. So you’d sit down with the bread-cake. Looking like bread. And then you cut it open and it’s got all this cool shit inside it, yeah?”

“Pretty much.”

“It sounds really great, Caleb. I need to try some. When’s your birthday?”

He reddened and she wondered why it was such a probing question, and why had she never asked it before?

“It’s been a while since I celebrated a birthday,” he said, by way of explanation. “But, next time we can do it properly. With bread-cake and everything.”

“Aw man,” she sighed. “I don’t know if I can wait that long. Excuse me, sir!” the server's head snapped up. “Do you have any…”

Caleb supplied, “Stollen.”

“Zemnian,” replied the server with a snort. “Empire dishes aren’t all that popular in these parts.”

“Oh,” said Jester.

“And even if they were, I’m afraid we’ll be closing soon. Kitchen’s done for the day.”

“Oh,” she repeated, disappointment mounting.

Quickly, Caleb put on his most charming smile and said, “Of course, we will be out of your hair at once. I just wanted to ask if you had any suggestions for where we could go next.”

“We’re on a date,” said Jester.

The server’s face did not shift as he said, “Congratulations.” Then with a sigh, added, “There's a dance hall two streets west. It’s pretty popular with the younger crowd.”

At the word ‘dance,’ Jester sat up a little straighter, smile spreading a little wider. Caleb kept his eye on her as he paid for their cakes, as they gathered their things to leave, as they wandered back out onto the street.

“You want to go dancing?” he asked, no doubt seeing that spark in her eyes.

“I mean, only if you want to.”

It was not a convincing lie, but she had not entirely intended it to be.

With a nod over his shoulder, he said, “Let’s go.”

* * *

Their server had not been wrong about the dance hall. Even as they turned onto the street, some hundred feet away from the establishment, they could hear the sound of strings, of conversation. Could smell the sweat and the beer.

“We don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” said Jester, eyes flitting between the ruckus and her incredibly awkward boyfriend.

“Crowds don’t bother me,” he said. “The more eyes there are, the less anyone focuses on you.”

“I suppose so. Like how that goblin couple were totally judging us for ordering so much cake.”

“Exactly.”

They got drinks before braving the dance floor. Milk for Jester, and for Caleb as well, but no chocolate, unfortunately. It didn’t seem that such a thing was served there. Even the milk was a challenge to get.

“We should grind up some chocolate for you to carry around,” said Caleb, sipping politely at his pint of milk. “Then you’ll never be caught off guard.”

“That’s a good idea. We could keep it in your little pouch.”

“With all the copper and bat shit?” he asked.

She cackled, head thrown back. Once her laughter had faded, however, Caleb’s fond stare did not. She felt herself flush a little. She wanted to be dancing with him already, but it was like something sticky had caught on her shoe. Like she needed to pause, to clean it off, before she danced on it.

“This is my first date,” she said, laughing nervously.

“I know.” A pregnant pause before he said, “Mine too.”

“But you had a girlfriend.”

“I did.”

“You didn’t go on dates?”

“There wasn’t much time for dating. It was mostly studying and training.”

“So when did you dance with her?”

“Oh, there were parties," he said, almost distracted. "But it was always more business than anything else. It was about making connections, making a good impression.”

“You never wanted to take her out on a real date?”

A pained smile graced his face and he asked, in a whisper, “You really want to talk about Astrid right now?”

“No." She shook her head, blue hair swaying. "You’re right. I shouldn’t have brought her up.”

“Bring her up if she is on your mind. I was just surprised to hear you thinking of her at all.”

“You called me her name once.”

“I did. I am sorry.”

“I’m not mad. I guess… I don’t know.”

“I promise I won’t ever mistake you for her again.”

“Do you miss her?”

Caleb stared at her, hard, startled, before saying, “No.”

It sounded certain. And she knew, anyway, that he didn’t ever lie. Not to her. He evaded and avoided, but he never told her anything that felt untrue.

“Okay," she said.

“I feel bad for her,” he continued. “I feel bad that I am here with you, on such a wonderful night, with a free mind. While she, and all of my brothers and sisters, are still strung up by the empire’s rotten fist.”

He was shaking a little. From grief. Or something similar. Jester slid her hand across the bar and placed it gently on his own. He stilled beneath her touch.

“I’m sorry, Caleb,” she said. “I really, really, shouldn’t have brought any of this up.”

His face was soft as he said, “I want you to talk to me, Jester. As I know you want me to talk to you.”

“But it’s not a very romantic conversation.”

“Maybe not. But it is a conversation between the two of us and that is all that matters.”

There he went again, saying things that made her chest burn with love. She didn’t think she had ever wanted to kiss him so badly before. Really kiss him. Hold him as close as their bodies, and such a public forum, would allow.

“Dance with me?” he asked, shifting his hand beneath hers so that their fingers were entwined.

She nodded and allowed him to tug her gently towards the dance floor. It was crowded, but not lacking in free space. Some of the pairs had retreated to the corners to refresh during what was, by Jester’s standards, a pretty boring song. It wasn’t bad for dancing, though. Slow, but not quite a waltz. She placed one hand on his back while the other remained in his right hand (his left sending shivers from where it sat on her waist). It was a song for swaying, they soon realised. He pulled her closer until their chests were almost flush. Jester, once more, was forced to close that distance.

It was too much and not enough. But it was so utterly wonderful that she could not bring herself to feel disappointed. If that was as close as they would be that night, as close as they would ever be, she supposed it wouldn’t be the worst thing ever. Just as she leaned her head onto his shoulder, the tempo picked up and the floor became flooded once more.

Caleb gave Jester a questioning look and, in response, she simply lifted her head gave him a wicked smile. There was a light shrug of his shoulders as if to say, “Very well,” before he tugged off his scarf and stuffed it into a pocket.

She had known he could waltz, but she hadn’t expected him to be able to lead her in something so lively. He had her spinning, pulled close, tight in his arms and held at arm’s length. Even with her boundless energy, the ceaselessness of their movements left her breathless. The temperature grew warmer and warmer.

He pulled her close one final time and she could see small beads of sweat on his temples. His burning eyes met her own and there was no doubt in her mind that it was her he saw before him. Just Jester.

“It’s hot,” she breathed.

He felt like fire against her. And Caleb’s fire was catching.

She was beyond comparing every moment to the books, beyond longing to long to be held in strong arms. She did not want to be Genevieve when it was Jester who Caleb looked at with such adoration. Such longing.

“Should we get some air?” he asked, voice close to ragged.

Jester nodded before she could contemplate the question long enough to reach a real conclusion. It was only when they were halfway to the exit, staring at his back and missing his face, when she realised she had not answered truthfully.

She wanted to breathe in Caleb. That was it.

* * *

The cold air did little to alleviate the heat. Perhaps it would have helped for them to put some space between them. Instead, Jester tucked herself into his side, Caleb’s arm thrown around her, pulling her even closer and pressing a firm kiss to her temple.

It wouldn’t do.

She slipped free and led him into a small side street, barely lit.

“What are we doing?” he asked.

But his tone was knowing. Amused even.

“Thank you for tonight,” she said, taking both his hands in each of her own.

This was it, she thought, this was when it all became too much. When she had to cross that boundary of polite courtship or at the very least _talk_ about crossing it.

His gaze was still hot, though.

And for the very first time, he closed the distance between their mouths.

He leaned down, grazing his lips ever so slightly over hers. Jester responded with such immediate enthusiasm that Caleb was pushed backwards, taking her with him as she locked her arms behind his bare neck. His back hit a wall, causing him to let out a real, loud laugh and she had no choice but to kiss him again. Harder than ever before. One of his hands was in her hair and the other was on her waist. She needed at least one of them to grip tighter. If not both. But to articulate that desire she would have had to use her words, and her mouth was a little preoccupied with exploring. So she used her hands, clutched, almost desperately, at his hair, momentarily irritated by how most of the red strands were tied back out of reach. It was quick work, however, to pull it free, letting the tie float into the gutter without a second thought. All that mattered was getting her fists full of him.

The kissing became deeper and sloppier, the two of them growing bolder. For a second she thought a moan might escape her throat, but she swallowed it down and felt a laugh trickle out instead.

“What?” he asked.

With another laugh, she said, “I don’t know.”

He quirked his nose and she just had to push up even further on her toes so she could rub that beautiful, crooked nose of his with her own button, blue one.

“You think this is funny?” he said, pressing three quick kisses to her lips.

Another giggle escaped her as Caleb pressed a fourth kiss, too slow for Jester to not catch it and stretch it. Clumsiness slipped into a natural comfort. Tongue brushed against tongue. Almost surreal in how fiercely connected they were. They swept against one another, hands grasping for purchase, for an unachievable degree of closeness. Ocean waves bound to crash upon rocks as much as they’re bound to drag back.

Ever closer and a solid edge met her rib. Of course, she thought, he went nowhere without those books strapped to his sides. It didn’t hurt at all, but it was so completely, overwhelming Caleb, she pulled back just a little.

“You are laughing again,” he breathed.

Was she?

Jester had never been drunk before, but she’d seen how it clouds the senses, overwhelms some with a certain unabashed giddiness that she knew she had never felt herself. Before that moment anyway. Because in that moment, she felt drunk.

His mouth had not slipped away from hers. Not fully. She could feel his smile and if she shifted only slightly she could suck his bottom lip back between her own. Softer, somehow, than the delicate pecks they’d been exchanging for the past few weeks. 

The desire to fall back into kissing struck her hard and fast. She latched her lips onto his mouth, onto his cheek, his jaw. Instinct guiding her more than anything, emboldened by the way his hands gripped tighter, the way his own mouth peppered kisses at the soft skin beneath her ear.

“Is this how it feels,” she began, pausing to even her breath. “To drink?”

“Oh, no,” he replied, voice hoarse. “This is much better.”

**Author's Note:**

> please validate me
> 
> thank you so much for reading my mush <3


End file.
